Cozying Up To Roger

Roger. I’ve known Roger all my life.

received_10159716050995623But to tell you about Roger, I must first back up and tell you about my Uncle Peter. Peter was my dad’s brother. He and my Aunt Liz lived their married life almost entirely in the house they bought just shortly after they married. It’s a wonderful, big, old home in an older part of Toronto.

Uncle Peter was an extremely intelligent man. And as you know, most often great intelligence comes with quirks. Endearing, eccentric, and at times whimsical quirks, they are really. So with Uncle Peter, he had a thing for naming random, inanimate things.

And Roger — is an inanimate thing. Roger is a room.received_10159716050240623

You see, this wonderful, big, old house has a 1-car garage. And on top of the garage is this little room. So, it’s a room over garage — ROG. Roger. The room, when I was a little girl, was affectionately and consistently called Roger. And this I’ve known all my life.

received_10159716050045623Instantly, I remember, I fell in love with Roger. Standing in the middle of Roger felt like getting a gentle hug. The feel of it alone, cozy. It’s a simple sitting room; a room to just “be”, with a couch, a couple chairs, and a few little tables. Nothing unusual about that. But Roger held something that most rooms do not have. Roger’s three out of four walls were and still are lined with books.

Ah books. My life long love. As far as I can remember, to me, books received_10159716050180623were considered magic.

Each time I visited while growing up, I would stand in the middle of Roger and absorb the energy of these books. As an adult in these days, when I visit my Aunt Liz and we tell stories of the past and remember Uncle Peter, who passed on in the house, just two rooms over from Roger, I spend as much time in the room lined with the written word, just being. In fact, in this moment, I am writing this piece while sitting in the cozy, rocking chair. received_10159716050330623It’s early morning, the darkness has just broken. It’s record breaking temperatures out there for a December day, -28 degrees Celsius. And I am in here, wrapped in a blanket, rocking away, drinking my second cup of coffee, and getting cozy with my life long friend, Roger.

Small blessings.



Daily Prompt:  Cozy


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